


All Of Your Love Is Sunlight

by henriettahoney



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (also lowkey didn't mean to love adansey this much but here we are, Alive Noah, Alive Noah Czerny, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cinnamon Roll Noah Czerny, Cuddling & Snuggling, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Friendship, Get off my ass, I'm Bad At Tagging, Late at Night, M/M, Nerd Richard Gansey III, No Plot/Plotless, Noah Czerny-centric, POV Noah Czerny, Pancakes, Ronan Lynch Has Feelings, Skater Noah Czerny, a gift, just let me have my roah and be happy, look i know these aren't my usual ships okay, okay okay i'll stop, the entire gangsey is out of character and i don't know what you want me to do about it, this is a gift okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 07:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriettahoney/pseuds/henriettahoney
Summary: There wasn’t anything else he’d ever experienced quite like being held by Ronan Lynch. Everything about it was a paradox. He was all sharp edges, but the strength of his his embrace was soft. It was rough and gentle, dizzying and grounding, intoxicating and a breath of fresh air.





	All Of Your Love Is Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [octoberfeeling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/octoberfeeling/gifts).

“Your feet are freezing,” Ronan complained, but pulled Noah tighter against him, pressing a sleep-messy kiss to the side of his neck. “Where have you been? I thought you’d be back at—not ass o’clock tonight.”

Noah hummed, giving himself a moment to take in Ronan’s scent and warmth before responding. “A kid tried to primo slide and it didn’t go well. Shattered his knee cap. Had to call his parents and an ambulance. It was a whole thing.”

“They’re not gonna try to sue you or anything, right?”

Noah’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness of the bedroom, and he could see now that Ronan was shirtless, blankets half twisted beneath him, half covering his legs. “No,” he said, “but even if they did, I’m covered. I did take some of this shit into account when I decided to teach reckless adolescents to skate.” Then, after nuzzling Ronan’s jaw, “You need to shave.”

As if on instinct, Ronan dragged a hand over his head. “I just did.”

“Your face,” Noah elaborated. “It’s scratchy.”

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Ronan told him, intentionally rubbing his chin against Noah’s shoulder. 

“According to who,  _ Adam and Gansey _ ?” Noah ribbed, flopping down fully onto his back. 

“Yeah, or literally anyone else. Take your clothes off.”

“I’m cold.”

Ronan propped himself up on his elbows, looking fully alert for the first time since Noah’s entrance. “Have you been taking your iron pills?”

“Sure,” Noah said, sitting up to tug off his shirt and irreparably shredded jeans. “If by taking them you mean throwing the entire bottle in the trash.”

“You’re killing me, Czerny,” Ronan informed him dejectedly. 

“They make my stomach hurt.”

“I know.” Ronan shifted so that his back was practically flush with the wall, opening his arms for Noah. “Come here. I’ll keep you warm.”

Noah happily obliged.

There wasn’t anything else he’d ever experienced quite like being held by Ronan Lynch. Everything about it was a paradox. He was all sharp edges, but the strength of his his embrace was soft. It was rough and gentle, dizzying and grounding, intoxicating and a breath of fresh air. “I miss you,” he murmured. He didn’t allow himself this particularly often—appearing as anything but upbeat enough to be deemed frenetic. And it wasn’t a show; that genuinely  _ was  _ his energy ninety percent of the time. But he couldn’t help it if thinking about how  _ separately  _ busy he and Ronan had been lately slowed him down a little. “Feel like I don’t see you enough anymore.”

“I miss you, too.” Ronan’s voice was quiet and smooth as satin, muffled in the thick of Noah’s hair. “What do you have tomorrow? Anything?” 

“No,” Noah said, maneuvering himself down far enough to rest his ear against Ronan’s chest. “I could come to church with you, if you want.”

“What if I skip,” Ronan countered, “and we make pancakes? We can get up as early as you want and go to the farmer’s market for bananas. Pretty sure we’ve still got chocolate chips.”

Noah lifted his head to meet Ronan’s eyes. “Seriously? You don’t have to do that. Wouldn’t Matty and Dec miss you?”

“They see me every Sunday,” Ronan said with a wave of his hand. Then the corner of his mouth tilted up, and Noah knew he was going to love whatever came out of it next. “ _ Or  _ we could go to the store right now for bananas and make pancakes when we get back, and then you could come with me in the morning.”

“I like that option,” Noah told him.

Ronan grinned.

* * *

Walmart was deserted (as it should’ve been at such an hour) which Noah was mildly disappointed by only because it meant there was no one to shoot him dirty looks as Ronan pushed him around in an entirely unnecessary cart. 

“Do you want anything else? Extra bananas just to eat? Some other fruit or something?”

Noah contemplated for a moment, drumming his fingers over the back of Ronan’s hand. “Cereal?”

“Cereal,” Ronan agreed.

Five bananas, a box of Boo Berries, a carton of strawberry ice cream, and two packages of sour gummy worms later, they headed out of the store, Noah now walking next to Ronan, cart abandoned in the entryway. 

“What time is it?” Noah asked, having left his phone in the pocket of his discarded jeans, opting for a warm pair of sweats before they’d left. 

Ronan dug his from his jacket, clicking the home button to prompt the awakening of the screen’s backlight. “Almost one.”

“Perfect,” Noah said, beaming. “It’s morning. We can have a socially acceptable breakfast.”

Ronan snorted and shook his head, knocking against Noah’s shoulder with his own. “Nothing about you is socially acceptable. You wanna drive?”

* * *

There was something about the still of the Barns at night that Noah loved so fiercely it made him weak. When he pulled into the gravel lot outside the house, Ronan immediately moved to exit the car, but Noah rested a hand on his forearm, stilling him. “Look at the stars,” he said, quiet. 

“They look the same as they always do,” Ronan teased fondly, turning his hand up to catch Noah’s in it and lifting it to his lips to ghost them over the icy skin of Noah’s knuckles. “Come on, man. It’s cold as all hell. Let’s get you inside.”

Reluctantly, Noah followed him out of the BMW—careful not to hit his own Mustang with the door as he swung it open—and up the steps of the porch, wrestling only one bag successfully out of Ronan’s grasp. As he kicked off his shoes in the entryway, a large, black and white mound of fluff rutted against his calf, chirping insistently.

“Hey, buddy,” Noah chuckled, bending to scratch the cat gently behind the ears. “Ro? Squash is in the house again.”

“God dammit,” Ronan intoned from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. “I don’t know how the fucker keeps getting in. I give up. He’s the king now. Let him do what he wants.”

Noah shared a conspiratorial look with the cat, because they both knew full well that  _ Noah _ had been the one letting him in, and left to join Ronan in the kitchen as Squash made himself comfortable atop Noah’s newly discarded Chuck Taylors. 

“Here,” he said, offering up his sole grocery bag to Ronan. “Gummies.”

Ronan accepted them and then immediately abandoned them on the countertop, already peeling open a banana. “Can you get started on batter? Or will you fuck it up?”

“I’ll definitely fuck it up,” Noah confirmed cheerily, extracting the milk from the fridge. “Hand me the flour?”

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, there was a stack of decidedly not-fucked-up pancakes teetering surreptitiously on the kitchen island, extra chocolate chips, syrup, and a light dusting of powdered sugar piled on top.

“Think we can eat all these?” Ronan asked, raising a brow at the tower before him. 

“I may have made a few too many,” Noah admitted, arms twining around Ronan’s waist from behind. “Think Gansey’s up?”

“Call him.”

Noah raced up the stairs to retrieve his phone and dialed Gansey’s contact, a whispered, “Hello?” echoing through the receiver after only one ring.

“Hey,” Noah said, at a normal volume. “Want some pancakes?”

“What?” Gansey asked, still nearly inaudible, and then, “One second, Adam’s sleeping. I’ll get up.” There was a light shuffling, the unmistakable sound of Adam mumbling a practically unconscious inquiry, and Gansey hushing him before padding out of the room. “Sorry. Pancakes?”

“Pancakes,” Noah repeated, as he jogged back down to the kitchen to find Ronan already digging in haphazardly with only a fork. “Do you want some?”

“Now?” Gansey questioned evenly. “Of course. Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Noah told him, sticking out his tongue to accept a chocolate chip from Ronan. “And Adam, if he wakes up and wants to come.”

“Splendid,” Gansey said. “See you soon.”

* * *

Soon, as it turned out, was nearly two o’clock. Gansey pushed open the door without knocking, Adam trailing behind him, wrapped in a throw blanket and rubbing his eyes blearily. 

“Parrish,” Ronan greeted, reaching out to bump knuckles. Adam accepted, using his free hand to muffle a yawn. “Didn’t expect you to haul your ass out of bed.”

“I didn’t expect me to either,” Adam joked, reaching out to pull Noah into a one-armed hug before dropping onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the island from Ronan. “Fuckin’ factory’s freezing at night ‘cause  _ somebody _ won’t put plastic over the windows, so I didn’t wanna be left alone to die.”

“It’s the aesthetic,” Noah sighed, head falling to Gansey’s shoulder for effect. “It wounds his spirit to disrupt it.”

“Wounded spirit,” Adam began, gesturing to Gansey, and then, to himself, “wounded boyfriend. Physically. From hypothermia. Which is a harder hit?”

“Oh, the spirit,” Ronan determined solemnly. “Easily the spirit.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but closed them in contentment when Gansey began methodically kneading at his shoulders, bowing to press a kiss to the top of his head. “The aesthetic is infinitely important, love. It can’t be helped.”

“ _ Shhh _ ,” Adam pressed, leaning back into Gansey’s touch. “Food. Somebody feed me.”

Gansey let go with one hand to reach across the counter and swipe Ronan’s fork, cutting off a sizeable chunk of pancake and offering it to Adam, who opened his mouth in gracious acceptance.

“Mm,” he approved, nodding his head. “Much better. We’re staying here tonight, right? Or, for the rest of tonight, anyway?”

“Obviously,” Noah answered, hopping up onto the island’s marble top and taking the fork from Gansey’s hand to spear himself a slice of pancake. He allowed himself a moment to worship the velvety chocolate melting into the somehow still-warm banana before continuing, licking the sticky syrup from his lips. “I’m going to church with Ro in the morning, but it’s not like any of us will have had enough sleep, so you guys hang tight and we’ll come back and take a group nap. It’ll be sick.”

“Sick?” Ronan repeated, calculating. “Speaking of sick, do I…” He paused, trailing off dramatically to erupt into a brief fit of clearly staged coughs. “Do I  _ sound _ sick to you? It’d be a shame if I had to cancel, but…” Another pause. Another cough. “I’m sure Declan wouldn’t want me disrupting the service. Maybe it’s best if I stay home.”

“Ronan,” Noah deadpanned. “You’re not getting out of it. You already tried. We decided we were going.”

“Yeah, but that was before,” Ronan protested, removing the empty fork from Noah’s hand to feed a bite of the steadily depleting pancakes to Gansey. They looked like something of a monstrosity now, the entirety missing segments from various sections, syrup and melted chocolate pooling around the bottom of the plate. “Now we have company.”

“You see us, like, every day,” Adam reminded him, but quickly added, “I’m not gonna argue with you not waking us up when you inevitably start banging around on shit at seven o’clock, though. If you wanna stay here and sleep like a normally functioning human, more power to you.”

“I can’t go,” Ronan concluded, batting his lashes at Noah. “Too sick. Deathly ill. Plagued.”

“I could tell Declan it’s true,” Gansey offered. “If you want.”

“A prince among men,” Ronan told him.

Noah knew better than to protest any longer.

* * *

When Ronan’s alarm went off, he called Declan, putting on his best facade, and with Gansey’s backup, Declan didn’t suspect a thing. Nearly as soon as they’d hung up, the lot of them slipped back into the hazy film of their dreams. 

When Noah woke for the second time of the morning, this instance of his own accord, it was to sunlight pouring joyfully into the bedroom and showering Ronan, next to him in the bed, and Gansey and Adam, in their makeshift palette of blankets on the floor, in a warm, golden glow. He smiled contentedly and snuggled into Ronan’s chest, eliciting an irritated but clearly still asleep grunt from his chest. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a careful kiss to Ronan’s temple. 

“That’s all good and well,” he heard, startling, and glanced back down to the floor to see that Gansey was, in fact, awake. “But are there any more pancakes?”

Unable to stop himself, Noah let out a whoop of a laugh, extending his hand over the side of the mattress to help pull Gansey up. 

“Race you,” he challenged, just as both Ronan and Adam began to stir.

“You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, this is just a thing that happened. I don't know. If you're not into roah or adansey, that is 100% chill. I'll be back on my pynch bullshit soon, no worries. There is no plot here. There is no accurate characterization here. There is only what my brain did. 
> 
> Also, this is a gift to EJ, the love of my life, for editing my wedding photos. Thank you times a million. I hope you've enjoyed this pointless fluff.
> 
> (I can't stop using Hozier lyrics as fic titles and I will not apologize.)


End file.
